


A Beautiful Knife

by sorrybabyxx



Series: Gemillaneve Debauchery [1]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Face-Sitting, Power Play, Strap-Ons, Top Eve Polastri, Top Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, bottom gemma, gemma loves sex and older woman, timeline is wibbly wobbly - v&e are together but have never meet gemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrybabyxx/pseuds/sorrybabyxx
Summary: A bit of a ‘what if’ fic where Eve and Villanelle don’t meet Gemma through Niko.OREve and Villanelle have decided they want to have a threesome - enter Gemma, who is looking for a one-night stand.
Relationships: Gemma/Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: Gemillaneve Debauchery [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060775
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	A Beautiful Knife

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to skip to the smut the fifth set of asterisks will get you there.  
> Otherwise, enjoy.

The whole mad idea got started in bed, during sedated post-coital chatter.

They laid together spooning. Eve had her eyes closed, inviting sleep when out of nowhere Villanelle asked, “Have you ever had a threesome? Hugo and the earpiece don’t count by the way.”

Eve was a little surprised. But her answer was simple. “No.”

Villanelle nuzzled deeper into Eve’s hair. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve had one?”

“ _Everyone_ knows you’ve had them,” Eve scoffed, pulling the blankets around her, trying to literally put the topic to bed. She didn’t want to think about the two gorgeous women she’d found Villanelle with.

She could still feel Villanelle thinking in the quietness. “Would you ever want to?” There was a beat then Villanelle added, with a rare touch of insecurity, “With me, of course.”

“They seem exhausting,” Eve muttered into her pillow, so ready for sleep.

“Mmmh …they are,” Villanelle hummed into her neck, all suggestive but she let the topic drop.

****

The brief conversation sparked something in Eve. It made her curious. She kept returning to the idea throughout the week. It intrigued her, even though she thought it was a _horrible_ idea.

They were _both_ the jealous type. Villanelle had insisted it wouldn’t be like that, wouldn’t feel like that. That it went beyond jealousy. Eve wasn’t so sure.

But that very Saturday night they were sitting in the backseat of a car heading to some sex club Eve had never heard of, even with all her years of living in London.

They’d feel it out. That’s what they’d agreed, if Eve wasn’t comfortable, they would go home. It would all be in Eve’s hands, on her terms.

Villanelle’s excitement hummed through the car. Eve wondered how long she’d been secretly wanting this. Eve wondered if it was possible for someone have a threesome kink? It made Eve more nervous, aware their drive back might have a different energy if she popped Villanelle’s bubble by backing out.

Naturally, on the way they discussed the logistics and their preferences for a potential third. Were they hunting for a man or a woman?

Eve suggested a man. And Villanelle shrugged. Not a denial, but clearly not her first choice tonight. Villanelle was less patient with men, less forgiving. Eve could imagine her pickling the poor guys phallus if he couldn’t satisfy them.

In the end the matter was put to bed when Villanelle said, “We have sex toys in our apartment that can do just as good of a job.”

Villanelle did have quite the collection.

So, a man was out, if Eve wanted to maximise the chances of their third surviving. And that the most scandalous act Villanelle engaged in tonight was a threesome, not murder.

But then it was Eve’s turn to go quiet. Men bored Villanelle, but women fascinated her, in a way that lasted. And it made a small part of Eve worry.

Women loved Villanelle. Eve felt their stares, their longing eyes when they were out together. Eve could handle it when it was _their_ eyes that were filled with envy and jealousy. She didn’t know if she could invite that into their bed. God, Eve might end up being the one pickling private parts.

Her train of thought was forced to end there; they had arrived. It was dim inside the club. The dance floor was bare. The numerous poles were empty. It wasn’t what Eve had expected. It was surprisingly unintimidating. People hovered around, drinks in hand trying to find a place to settle. It looked more like a session of speed dating than a club.

“It’s dead,” Eve said, stating the obvious.

Villanelle shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted to get here early.”

There was one benefit to the sleeping nightlife, it made _her_ easier to spot. The warm animated heart of the room. The auburn-haired woman stood tentatively, looking like she didn’t belong. The flower print of her flattering dress was too bright for the grim decor. Ripe lips sipped from a flute of champagne. Eve wanted to know what she was celebrating.

Villanelle’s eyes found the same woman in their quick casing. A man talked with her, craning over to tell her a joke, her blank eyes told them it wasn’t the least bit funny, she sold it though. Her laugh was perhaps too enthusiastic, high, flattering him.

They were attracted to her for different reasons.

For Eve, the woman felt like an homage to her old life. All the crushes she never recognised as such, that sometimes visited her late at night while Niko snored beside her.

For Villanelle, it was less symbolic, less meaningful. Physical. She was attracted to the woman’s femininity. Her maturity, how it landed her somewhere between Villanelle and Eve in age and demeanour. And last but never least, her tits, rising from the cut of her dress.

Realising they were admiring the same woman, Villanelle said, “I don’t want to sway you but … she’s kind of perfect.”

“She is gorgeous,” Eve agreed.

“Let’s interrupt them.”

Villanelle pulled them towards the woman. Eve panicked and wheeling them to the bar instead.

***

Coming here meant Gemma was in a _state_. Usually, she could manage it at home, diddle herself back into contentment. But the need had been building all week, never abating, no matter what she did.

Gemma needed to be taken out of her life. To forget about all the ungraded papers on her desk. The ticking clock and the cold empty half of her bed. Tonight, wasn’t about love, that was a different need.

Gemma wasn’t lonely, she was wanting. She loved sex. She loved the way it made her feel.

The setup, the arrangement of a one-night stand suited her. She found there was something magical about them. It was your first and last chance to touch each other. To devour one another. She enjoyed that, it made her strive for perfection. And it manufactured the kind of passion Gemma required in a lover. She wasn’t easy. She knew that.

It always made her anxious coming here. She was a teacher and there was always the fear a fellow staff member or – god forbid – a parent of one of her students would recognise her. It was why she let herself get in such a state before coming here. It wasn’t worth the potential mortification otherwise.

Gemma realised all that worry had been for nothing when she took in the night’s bland offerings.

She managed to wrangle herself a drink before a man found his way over to her. Clean shaven. His shirt one loose button away from flashing a nipple. She could tell from his waning attention and his inability to let her speak, or to listen, he didn’t possess the devotion she required. He’d hump her like a horny teenager.

A few exchanges passed between them and Gemma felt drained. He kept chatting away at her, but she faded into her own thoughts.

She knew she was asking too much of this club so early in the evening. Maybe she didn’t have it in her tonight. She could finish her bubbly, make her excuses, and get home in time for a bath, maybe even curl up with Pompom and watch ‘Mamma Mia! _’_. ABBA and Meryl Streep always made her feel better.

Tonight, didn’t have to be a complete waste.

Gemma took a hearty gulp, trying to drop the level in her glass. She wanted to be polite and maintain eye contact with the man but despite herself, her eyes roamed the room.

It was fuller now, flush with newcomers. Her eyes breezed over them until they came to rest on two women who stood at the bar. One was blonde, mid-twenties, she looked relaxed, hands deep in her pockets. The Asian woman beside her was older, middle-aged, with a mane of curly hair. They contrasted and amplified one another’s beauty. Standing together, they stole Gemma’s focus from the rest of the room.

Gemma tried to size them up. The younger one was the kind of woman Gemma recognised. A good time. She was comfortable here, had hungry eyes that could pick Gemma out and know exactly what to say to have her. In bed, she wouldn’t make Gemma wait, because she couldn’t either. The kind of woman who wouldn’t be there when Gemma woke up, but she’d stick around. Her smell would linger in your sheets, get caught in your head, make you go crazy.

It was the older woman who held Gemma’s attention, made her get on her tippy toes to peek passed the man’s shoulder. She was the kind of woman Gemma longed for, dreamt about. She was the cold eyes that met hers from across the table at parent-teacher conferences, agitated and waiting fruitlessly for their husband to show. A tamed anger shimmered in their iris, that Gemma wanted them to take out on her.

They’d visit her in her dreams, press her into a corner with their hips, ordered her to be quiet. But even in her dreams they never touched her; they only teased. Leaving Gemma to wake, feeling dirty and deprived as she touched herself.

The kind of woman who never saw Gemma, never wanted her, who had husbands and lives bigger and more interesting than Gemma’s pleading devoted eyes. They weren’t going to transform and tear down their façade for her.

But then the woman turned, as if she knew where Gemma would be and locked eyes with her.

Gemma froze as she got a glimpse into the woman’s eyes and found there was nothing cloaked or timid about them, they bored into Gemma. Then raked over her body, teasing what her touch would feel like, where she would linger, where she would punish.

Gemma wanted to please her.

***

Villanelle ordered a water, she didn’t like to drink, especially not before sex. She took it way too seriously to consume substances that encouraged fumbling and sloppiness. She acted like an athlete on game day.

Eve, on the other hand, felt she needed it to steady herself.

Villanelle let her get down half the glass before suggesting, “Go talk to her.”

“What?” Eve nearly spat up her mouthful.

“She’s looking at you.”

Eve snorted but sure enough when she traced Villanelle’s eyeline, she found the woman watching them, well not them, Eve.

‘Told you,’ Villanelle chuckled into her glass as Eve turned back bug-eyed.

“She’s already talking to -.” Eve started but didn’t get to finish, the man Gemma had been talking to drifted away as she spoke, taking Eve’s excuse with him.

“What do I even say?” Eve asked, looking to Villanelle. She felt like she was back in college. Naive and apprehensive.

With men, Eve was confident, sure of herself. She’d played that game long enough. But she found women, even the non-assassin, non-murdering ones terrifying. She cast another look back at the woman. Their eyes locked again. Eve’s hands started to sweat but she kept her face composed in a calm mask.

“Offer her one of these.”

Eve turned to find Villanelle pushing two glasses of bubbly toward her. Was it as simple as buying her a drink? Eve was out of her depth, in the unusual position of defaulting to Villanelle as the expert, the sage on this matter.

Eve took a gulp of air, before taking the glasses. The champagne level tipped in her grasp, betraying the wobble of her hand.

“Be brave,” Villanelle teased.

A pat on her ass set Eve in the woman’s direction.

***

Gemma’s eyes widened as she realised the woman wasn’t just returning her gaze but leaving the bar with two glasses in her hands. They widened further when she was a few short strides away, her destination clear. Gemma drained the last sip of her glass, then Eve was in front of her.

“What are we celebrating?” Eve asked, passing Gemma a glass of bubbly like it was expected, like Gemma had sent for it.

She fumbled as she took it. Up close the woman was even more radiant.

“You’re gorgeous,” Gemma blurted out.

It drew a smile from Eve, gift wrapped in a light blush. “We can celebrate that.”

God, Eve was trying so hard to be cool. She’d never admit it to Villanelle, but she was trying to channel some of her confidence.

There was a lull in the conversation that was filled by Gemma’s mortification and Eve giving herself a little pep talk. Then Eve finally thought to introduce herself, “I’m Eve.”

She skipped her last name, kept it simple. Gemma followed suit, taking the hand Eve had stuck out between them as if as a probe, to measure the electricity between them.

They fumble through small talk and spaced it out with sips of their drinks. Gemma’s cheeks were hot and sore from smiling. She was a little giddy from sculling her first drink, when behind Eve, Gemma spotted the younger woman drifting over to join them.

Gemma couldn’t keep the disappointment from her face when Villanelle slipped an arm, effortlessly, casually around Eve’s waist. Eve responded to her touch, leaning against her.

A shame.

With pursed lips, Gemma looked down into the bubbles of her champagne, popping like her fantasy. Of course, Eve wasn’t interested in Gemma. Looking at her with the younger woman, Gemma knew she didn’t stand a chance, they fit together.

Gemma was still envious.

Eve went to introduce them but faltered. The word ‘girlfriend’ always felt dumb and flat in her mouth in reference to Villanelle. It was too typical. Not enough. She tried out some alternatives in her head. _This is the woman I ruined my life for. This is the woman I stabbed. This is the woman who shot me._ Each could only capture a facet of their relationship, in the end Eve fell back on what was typical.

“Gemma, this is my girlfriend, Villanelle.”

“Oh lovely, how did you two meet?” Gemma had composed herself, her smile stayed in place.

They shared a look. Eve answered for them. “Through work.”

“What do you two do?”

Villanelle butted in before Eve could answer. She leant into Eve, eyes on Gemma, her lips at Eve’s ear, “Have you asked her yet?”

An elbow jabbed Villanelle’s side. Eve made the effort to lower her voice, to be subtle unlike Villanelle. “I was working up to it.”

The focus of their eyes let Gemma know that she was definitely the ‘her’ in question, but not what was being proposed.

It wasn’t bravery but desperation that made Gemma prompt, “Ask me what?”

Villanelle and Eve shared a look Gemma couldn’t read. Then Villanelle fixed Gemma with her hazel gaze. “Do you want to come back to our apartment?”

“With you?” Gemma asked, a finger pointed at Villanelle.

“With both of us,” Eve clarified.

“ _Both_ of you?” Gemma choked on her words.

Eve nodded.

“If you think you can handle us.” Villanelle smirked. Her tone was playful and promising.

***

The three of them cram into the back seat on the car ride to their apartment. Villanelle had claimed the middle, her legs encroached in on Eve and Gemma’s space. She linked the three of them with an arm around Eve, and a hand on Gemma’s thigh.

Eve was in her thoughts, her eyes out the window. Happy to let the quiet persist. Villanelle, however, poked at Gemma with questions, trying to figure her out.

Gemma’s words muddled, too distracted by the long fingers laying over the lip of her dress, reaching her stockings. Gemma imagined Villanelle’s hand on her bare flesh, not stuck in place but inching down, dipping into her. It made the short drive, feel incredibly long.

Eve let Villanelle lead when they got to the apartment. What was the etiquette of a threesome? Do they show Gemma around? Do they offer her a drink?

It turned out no, Villanelle don’t show Gemma anything besides the route to the bedroom. But you do offer them a drink of water and an out.

Gemma didn’t take either, she didn’t faulter.

Eve felt like she was going to.

Villanelle noticed and caught her hand, dragging her aside for a check in. Gemma took a seat on the bed, trying to wait patiently. While, simultaneously watching and tried not to watch Villanelle and Eve talk.

“Do you want me to let you two –.” Villanelle didn’t get to finish the proposition.

Eve’s ‘no’ was heavy and sure.

Being alone with Gemma was the last thing Eve wanted. That was doing a cannonball off an Olympic diving platform when Eve wanted to dip her toe in.

Looking back at Gemma fidgeting, correcting her posture, Eve said, “I want to watch you touch her.”

Eve wanted to see how it made her feel. If the attraction to Gemma could persist with her lips on Villanelle’s, watching her touch the woman Eve loved.

Gemma heard her. She was meant to. She fidgeted again. Eager.

Villanelle offered Gemma a hand, inviting her to stand while Eve took her place on the bed. With a hand on Gemma’s hip, the other in her hair, Villanelle position them side on with Eve.

When Villanelle kissed her, Gemma realised her first impression of Villanelle had been quite wrong. She’d never met a woman like this before. Blunt and sexy. Sweet and brutal. A dizzying set of contradictions conveyed through just a kiss. Despite Villanelle’s mystery her kiss hid nothing. It whispered her intentions to Gemma as she found the zipper of her dress.

Eve craned forward on the bed. Hands wadded in the bedspread, holding her in place as she watched the two undress. Her stomach fluttered as sGemma discover Villanelle’s body and Eve’s mark on it. A thumb dragged over the scar moving for the buttons of her pants. Villanelle helped Gemma out of her dress. Soon Gemma’s stockings were the only scrap of fabric remaining between the two of them. Villanelle wasn’t gentle, they stretched and gathered, pulling Gemma’s panties were pulled off in the fray.

Their eyes roamed over to Eve, but they kept going. Their postures were off, angled and opened. They were putting on a show, trying to impress her, to entice her to join them.

Villanelle pointedly took Gemma’s breasts into her hands. They overwhelmed Villanelle’s grasp as she kissed and nibbled at the pale flesh, the same way Eve loved to do to her tits, leaving love bites for them to count in the morning.

When she had Gemma naked and trembling, Villanelle pulled back and looked over at Eve. Villanelle was enjoying this. She was completely calm, unafraid of whatever Eve might propose, eager to know what she desired. “What now, Eve?”

Eve took in Gemma’s naked body. She wasn’t shy, poised at Villanelle’s side. A painting. She was reminiscent of those Western depictions of biblical Eve. Auburn and seemingly innocent. Except Gemma had let the same serpent Eve had fallen for tempt her, pry her mouth open and slip inside. There was no fig leaf leaving Gemma up to imagination. Long hair covered her body, falling passed her tits, nearing her belly button. Hard nipples poked through the curtain.

The sight of her made Eve feral. But she wasn’t jealous.

Eve was starting to understand the appeal of this. Gemma could be another piece in their game. Another thing to be wielded between them. Another act of twisted courtship, that was their love language.

A bladed lipstick. A bullet. An earpiece. _A knife._

And Gemma, Eve’s eyes appraised her again, would make a beautiful knife.

All curves. She was made to get caught in your skin.

She’d leave a gorgeous scar.

Eve found her voice. “I know what I want.”

“What?” Gemma beat Villanelle to ask. Desperate to know, desperate to be let in on the silent glances.

She was glad she did when Eve pivoted and directed her answer at Gemma. “I want to fuck you while Villanelle holds you.”

Eve didn’t question the idea or why it came to her, but she craved the image of it, of Villanelle holding on to Gemma, envious as Eve slid in and out of her driving in ever deeper, harder. While Villanelle couldn’t quite reach her, observing Eve’s touch through Gemma’s body.

The power of it.

Villanelle attempted to look scandalised by the proposition but her face split into a grin. Her fingers grabbed at the bare skin of Gemma’s hip. “Do you want that, Gemma?”

She nodded emphatically and Eve stood, moving into a connecting room, and flicking on a light. It was a walk-in, Villanelle’s clothes were everywhere, expensive, high-end but deemed inadequate for their night out. They were trampled on as Eve went to hunt down her strap on.

Villanelle backed up on the bed, until she nearly sat up against the headboard. Leaving Gemma standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed.

“Come here,” Villanelle beckoned her, arms and legs open in invitation, folds of pink flesh peeking out.

Gemma crawled across the bed and into her embrace, ready to fall into a kiss when Villanelle shifted her. Re-positioning Gemma between her legs, her back pressed to Villanelle’s naked front. The point of her chin settled on Gemma’s shoulder.

Villanelle’s hand captured a breast, a thumb scrolling over a hard nipple. Gemma’s hands gripped onto Villanelle’s raised knees on either side of her, using them to steady herself. It allowed Villanelle’s other hand, to descend Gemma’s body, dodging her aching core to rest on the inside of her thigh. The same place it had laid in the car. The touch was twice as maddening now, without the barrier of her clothes, without anything to stop Villanelle from touching her, from fulfilling the silent promise from the car.

In clear invitation, Gemma opened her legs, shifted her hips. Hoping Villanelle’s fingers would slip, brush up against her.

A kiss was pressed into her neck, then a question, “What do you want, Gemma?” The voice was smooth, but Gemma could imagine her smirk as Villanelle added, “You have to ask nicely.”

“For you to touch me.” Fingers drummed on her thigh. That wasn’t what Villanelle wanted. “Please, touch me.”

The hand lifted from her thigh and she nearly whimpered when Villanelle’s finger claimed her clit.

The real jolt of inner heat came as Villanelle, all hot and close in Gemma’s ear, purred, “Happily.”

***

Eve re-entered to find Gemma seated within the boundaries of Villanelle’s limbs, eyes closed, mouth falling opening in a telling ‘o’. As Villanelle worked two fingers inside of her, at a fluttering pace, a cruel pace. Her own brow furrowed in concentration.

“You were meant to get her going, not get her off.” Eve’s tone was amused. She stole their attention.

Villanelle’s touch eased up, but she remained inside, slowly stroking her swelling walls, a motion Gemma could just about think through. She opened her eyes to see Eve naked and kneeling on the bed, a purple dildo projecting proudly from her pelvis.

Eve looked cocky as she flicked the cap off the tube of lube, spreading it along the length of herself. The dildo was girthy but modest in length. It almost looked strange on her slender frame. But Eve’s demeanour had shifted accordingly, she felt in control.

One of Villanelle’s arms came across Gemma’s shoulders as if to brace her.

As Eve shuffled closer, Villanelle removed her fingers. There was a pop at Gemma’s ear as Villanelle sucked them clean. Then the strap on’s cold tip touched Gemma’s entrance, snapping a string of fluid that suspended between her labia. Eve rocked through her folds, not pressing into her just yet.

The anticipation was driving Gemma mad. She wondered if Eve was psyching herself up. Then cool and sure, Eve said to Villanelle, “Hold her legs up.”

Villanelle held of the backs of Gemma’s thighs and pulled her close, mimicking stirrups. It was simple, familiar, she knew the exact angle Eve was searching for.

Eve took in the sight of Gemma, all messy and spread. She looked like one of the flowers on her dress with their open petals, bright and blooming. Eve guided the head in a touch. It felt like Gemma was being cleaved through, driven open by an axe head. Eve paused to let her adjust. Gemma wanted her to continue, to fill her, to fell her like a tree.

Eve was distracted from her task when she met Villanelle’s eyes and was captured by the look of wonder suspended in them. Forgetting about her hips, Eve dragged their lips together. Traces of Gemma altered Villanelle’s taste, Gemma who was beneath them, between them, and growing impatient.

Firm hands reached for Eve’s ass cheeks and pulled her deeper.

Eve smiled into Villanelle’s kiss before breaking away, expecting to find Villanelle’s hands on her, dragging her into Gemma. Instead, she found Gemma under them, her eyes hungry, bottomless, propelling Eve’s onslaught.

The look in Gemma’s eyes changed everything for Eve, sent a bolt right through her. Gemma had earnt Eve’s full attention and her plan shifted accordingly, along with her mindset. She wasn’t going to fuck Gemma for Villanelle, or even for herself, Eve was going to fuck her to fill the void in Gemma’s pleading eyes.

Eve’s hands took the place of Villanelle’s, folding Gemma in on herself as Eve drove home the few inches that she hadn’t managed to steal. Then Eve began to move, burrowing in and dragging out of her. Gemma sighed her head tipping back into Villanelle. That was what she wanted, what she needed.

And Eve didn’t let up.

Villanelle noticed the shift between the two, the dialling up in intensity. She slipped a hand in the narrow gap between Gemma’s bodies and hers to copy Eve’s rhythm on herself.

Eve was unpredictable in charge. She was indecisive, she didn’t know what she wanted you to give her. Villanelle had found the only way to satisfy her was to give her everything. And Gemma was doing just that, it spurred Eve on, made her merciless.

Amidst the wicked crack of skin against skin, Villanelle gifted her spare hand to Gemma. Her touch was purposeful, gentle, aware Gemma didn’t need much. She didn’t want to ruin this for Eve by pushing Gemma over the edge too soon.

In the bedroom, when it was just the two of them, it was a constant power struggle. Chaotic. Glorious. Exhausting. Even when one of them wanted to be submissive, they remained bratty, testy, vindictive. Every moan extracted came with a promise of retribution. Gemma complemented their chaos. She bent to both of their wills effortlessly. Very literally, she folded between them. Villanelle marvelled at the way Gemma enjoyed being caught between them, used by them.

Quickly, Gemma realised Villanelle couldn’t shut up during sex. She needed to comment on everything, cooing to Gemma endlessly as Eve railed her. Eve wasn’t so vocal. Any of her instructions were short, gruff, words rather than sentences. She was impatient and didn’t want to repeat herself. Gemma didn’t speak because she couldn’t form words in such a state. But she certainly wasn’t quiet.

Every strike of Eve’s hips elicited a sound and plunged Gemma further into that place, into that peace, where her only burden was to _feel._

Gemma was close. Eve slowed forcing her way through the grip of Gemma’s clenching core. Villanelle marred the flesh of Gemma’s shoulder with her teeth as her hand sped up.

No one could miss the moment Gemma came. After a beat, a breath of uncharacteristic silence, she exploded, her body spasmed, restless for an outlet. Her hips flinched and Villanelle retracted her hand.

The movement, the loss of stimulus pulled Gemma from her haze and she reached for Eve, hands trapping her wrists, afraid she was going to pull away too.

“Please, don’t stop,” she begged.

Eve, who had no such intention, scooped Gemma closer to her. Consequently, she slid down Villanelle’s body, her head parking on a pillow of pubic hair. The position opened a new angle for Eve, who exploited it, eagerly.

Villanelle’s bemused face loomed over Gemma as Eve worked. Obsessing over the micro-expressions flickering across Gemma’s face. She pinched a nipple just to see how it altered the landscape of Gemma’s face. She contorted her body to lean down, so close Gemma was sure she intended to kiss her. Instead, she bared her teeth at her in a grin.

“You will just take and take won’t you, Gemma?” Villanelle sung, to the beat of wet clapping.

Again, Villanelle insisted on using her name whenever she addressed Gemma. She played with it in her mouth, then accented and dripping with delight she used it against Gemma. It made Gemma painfully aware that Eve hadn’t said her name since the club as Villanelle cleared sweaty strings of hair from her face.

Eve recognised Villanelle’s tone. The teasing mischief that meant she was spinning a web. It made Eve curious. As if punctuating Villanelle’s point, Eve stabbed into Gemma and held there. Gemma gasped at the sudden fullness. At rest, Eve’s stomach rippled with her exertion, slick with sweat.

Testing a theory, Villanelle stuck her finger in Gemma’s mouth, tugging her blissful expression out of shape.

Gemma looked up at Villanelle. A fly caught in a spider’s web. A trapped mouse watching the cat close in. Villanelle had figured her out.

To prove it she curled her finger, hooking it into Gemma’s cheek.

It was apt. Gemma was caught. She latched onto the bait. It pulled, making her head turn with no end goal, just to prove Villanelle could, that Gemma would let her.

Eve would have bitten Villanelle by now. Drawn blood. Gemma’s tongue lulled there, tasting herself, never protesting. Brown eyes asked what was next.

“Look at her, Eve.” She already was. Eve was there. The curls of her hair dangling over Gemma’s breasts, making her skin tickle. Their eyes met and Villanelle said, “I think she’s special.”

The word had an emphasis. An added meaning that only made sense to the two of them, with their strange scars.

“Can I?” Villanelle asked.

“I’ve had my turn,” Eve permitted, curiosity ruling her.

Villanelle’s eyes drifted back to Gemma, who still had a finger in her mouth, jutting into the meat of her cheek. “Do you want to give back for once, Gemma? To thank us.”

The finger was gone, a trail of drool in its place. Gemma was meant to answer. “Yes… yes, please.”

“Good girl.” It Eve was who said it. It was better than hearing her name, Gemma was sure of it.

Villanelle extracted herself, slipping away and into the walk-in. In her absence, Eve shifted atop of Gemma. Their bodies flush, breasts mashed together. Gemma wondered if Villanelle’s plan was a mystery to Eve as well. But the thought dissolved along with the will to voice it when Eve prodded Gemma, moving inside of her and locking their lips.

Gemma wrapped her legs around Eve’s waist trying to maximise even the slightest movement she offered her. Eve’s intent had shifted, she was more focused on Gemma’s lips than her own hips.

Eve let their lips part only to murmur, “You’re beautiful, Gemma.”

All the blood in Gemma’s body was divided between her engorged cunt and the blush sprawling across her face and neck. There wasn’t enough left for her brain to form a response.

“Eve!” Villanelle’s voice interrupted them, high-pitched and needy from the other room.

It extracted a sigh from Eve. “What?”

“Where is that dildo with the vibrating base? I think it’s blue.”

Eve’s lips were right there, Gemma wanted to interrupt them, to kiss her again but she let Eve respond, “How am I meant to know? Maybe if you put things back where they –.”

“Found it!” Villanelle announced, bursting back in the room.

It was a miserable feeling, Eve pulling out and rolling away from her. Gemma just wanted to touch her.

Villanelle stood at the end of the bed, a sky-blue dildo in hand. This one was thin, slender. She fiddled with the base of it then a light hum entered the atmosphere. Gemma imagined Villanelle wearing it, as she loaded it into the o-ring of a harness.

Surprising Gemma and Eve, Villanelle instructed Gemma to lift her legs. Gemma didn’t question her, then raised her hips to help Villanelle manoeuvre the harness onto her. It took some adjusting but swiftly, it was affixed to Gemma’s pelvis. The light buzzing muddied her thoughts, resting against her still hypersensitive clit.

Gemma had been with women. Lots of women, actually. But she’d never taken this role in the sexual encounter. She shifted her hips and watched it sway. The foreign sight of the faux phallus rising from her core, delighted, and intimidated her.

It seemed that was what Villanelle wanted as she came to lay on the other side of Gemma. Their bodies bracketed hers.

“Open your mouth.”

Gemma waited for her finger. Villanelle didn’t touch her.

“Show us your tongue.”

Villanelle sounded more than pleased with herself as she offered Gemma to Eve. “How do you want to get off, on her mouth or on her cock?”

“So that’s what this is,” Eve said, propping herself up on an elbow. Her strap hung to the bedspread, still slick with Gemma, it dampened were it touched the covers.

Then Eve dragged a finger along Gemma’s ribcage, angling it just right to catch her short nails on Gemma’s flesh. It strayed from its path, grazing over a nipple.

Gemma choked on her moan, trying to keep her tongue on show.

The hand kept going until it grasped the base of the dildo, gripping Gemma like a joystick then pressing the vibrating base down against her clit. Gemma eyes watered. Her chest gathered off the mattress.

The reaction pleased Eve, she didn’t offer Gemma’s mouth another glance as she said, “This will do.”

Unceremoniously, Eve wiggled out of her harness before mounting Gemma, who was hesitant, unsure of what to do. Eve wasn’t, she grabbed the strap and guided herself over it. The product of her arousal coating the tip as she sank down, slowly, patiently, letting her body adjust. Her eyes closed, breasts dancing with her decent. Gemma’s hands rested awkwardly on Eve’s thighs, not sure where they should be.

Villanelle shuffled closer, her lips in Gemma’s hair, a hand slipping under Gemma’s right ass cheek. “Eve knows what she wants you just have to give it to her,” she coached, her hand stealing a squeeze before guiding Gemma’s movements, showing her how to meet Eve’s rocking at the right moment.

After a well-earned, hard to untangle, ‘Oh god,’ tumbled from Eve’s lips. Villanelle withdrew her guiding hand and took the closest of Gemma’s hands from Eve’s thigh and pulled it between her legs.

Villanelle was dripping, the wetness spreading to her thighs, bathing Gemma’s fingers. Then she grabbed Gemma’s jaw, coaxing out her tongue. “Are you ready for all of it? Are you ready for me?”

The feeling of Eve moving, astride Gemma, grinding the vibrator into her with every movement was already _so_ much. But Gemma wanted more. Insatiable. She wanted to taste Villanelle. To have them both.

Gemma didn’t trust her voice and nodded.

Villanelle lifted herself from the mattress, shifting over Gemma, planting a knee on either side of her face. Villanelle sat back, hovering over Gemma’s chest as she fashioned a grip out of her hair. Villanelle had been deliberate about everything she did all night, she’d been holding back, prioritising Eve, making sure Eve enjoyed herself. But with Gemma between her legs, eyes clouded with desire, Villanelle couldn’t help herself. Her lust was incessant, transforming into something sweltering and ravenous. She needed a release and shifted forward until her cunt met Gemma’s mouth.

This was less foreign to Gemma than the harness on her hips. Her tongue passed through Villanelle’s wet folds, collecting her taste, settling in. Villanelle’s hand tugging in her hair told her to go deeper, harder. Gemma latched onto her clit, drawing it into her mouth, sucking. Stirring it with all the force she could muster.

Gemma couldn’t see Eve, but she could feel her, her pace, her bouncing. Could hear her even with Villanelle’s thighs clamping over her ears. Eve’s muscles ached as deeply as her cunt. Eve was so close and so exhausted. She opted for a position change, her posture crashing forward. Her face lay on Gemma’s chest, their bodies flush, the strap disappearing inside of Eve. Her full weight held the vibrator against Gemma, pleasing her tumultuous ache. Eve ground into Gemma, rolling her hips, seeking a deeper finer movement for herself.

But then Eve’s teeth caught her nipple and drove Gemma over the edge.

Despite causing it, Eve didn’t notice Gemma’s orgasm. There was no room for her to come, pinned beneath both of them. Villanelle felt the stifled shock waves pass through Gemma’s body, saw her eyes watering and pitching back. She rose off her.

Fingers combed through Gemma’s hair. “Breathe.”

Gemma did. Blinking back stars.

“Focus on your hips. Focus on Eve,” Villanelle said, her words were calm and luscious with her own pleasure.

Like they were two generous holds on a climbing wall, Eve used Gemma’s tits to heave herself up right again. She grunted; her head pressing into Villanelle’s back as she was once again dedicated to move in the pursuit of her orgasm. 

With Villanelle off her and her mind clearing, Gemma could aid in Eve in her quest. Hazily, blindly, rising off the bed to meet Eve’s urgency. Eve came like that, her hands summiting Gemma’s breasts, compressing them. Then she went boneless, still, falling against Villanelle’s back.

Eve rested for a moment, long enough to gather her breath, to kiss Villanelle’s shoulder and see that Villanelle had reclaimed Gemma’s mouth. She considered shuffling forward, holding Villanelle as she came but then her competitive streak took over. Eve climbed off the bed, loosening, and wrestling the harness from Gemma’s hips to go down on her.

Gemma found Eve’s lips weren’t as gentle against her clit as they had been against her lips. Stoking rather than tending the fire within Gemma. She was almost cruel, determined to snowball Gemma into another climax before she could finish Villanelle.

It took all of Gemma’s focus to not fall completely into her pleasure and stay dedicated to Villanelle. Her hands wrapped around Villanelle strong thighs like they were restraints on a roller-coaster, grounding herself.

Villanelle didn’t notice Gemma’s internal struggle. Eyes shut. A greedy hand in Gemma’s hair. Intricate movements weren’t needed on Gemma’s part anymore, Villanelle steered them both as she rode Gemma’s mouth.

The sight of Villanelle and the knowledge of Eve, competitive, determined between her legs snapped Gemma into another climax without warning. She was sure, it looked pathetic, the torqueing of her body, the moan that was stifled by Villanelle’s cunt. There was barely anything left for Gemma to give. The euphoria was brief bringing a wave of tiredness in its wake.

Gemma waited for Villanelle to ease off, as she had done before, to offer her the chance to breathe through it. But the pressure on her tongue mounted, the taste intensified. Villanelle’s moan confirmed that Gemma wasn’t going to get a chance to recover. She held steady, letting Villanelle take from her, punctuating things with her tongue where she could. Until with a shuddering, a crashing, Villanelle’s hips twitched, then bucked and finally stopped.

She dragged in a breath before rolling off Gemma and onto her side, too delicate. A little lightheaded Gemma took in her own greedy dramatic breath as Eve crawled between the two of them.

***

After the mandatory post-sex piss, that’s how they settled, like a stack of fallen dominoes. Eve leaned back into Villanelle while Gemma used Eve’s arm as a pillow, laying on her stomach, already asleep.

“I think we tired her out,” Villanelle said, her hand reaching over Eve towards Gemma.

“Don’t wake her,” Eve cautioned, lowering her voice so she didn’t unsettle Gemma.

“I’m not.” Villanelle lifted the edge of the blanket on top of Gemma, slowly to reveal a bite mark on her shoulder and then a red raw mark on her ass. “Was that you?” Villanelle teased, pointing to the handprint that stood out even in the dim light.

Eve went red just like it. And laid the covers back over Gemma.

Watching Eve begin to play with Gemma’s hair, Villanelle said, “Maybe we should keep her.”

Too much for right now, Eve settled for saying, “We can give her our number.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't write a lot of smut. I just got bewitched by Gemillaneve.  
> Let me know what you think x
> 
> twitter: [ we_r_colleagues ](https://twitter.com/we_r_colleagues)  
> tumblr: [ we-are-colleagues ](https://we-are-colleagues.tumblr.com/)


End file.
